All For A Ship
by Cap'n Jackie Sparrow
Summary: Was Captian Jack Sparrow always a pirate? NO! People, he worked for Cutler Beckett. How did he go from his humble job of trading cargoes to a notorius pirate no one will ever forget? And how'd he get his precious Pearl Read, review, I DON'T OWN ANYTHING!


All for a Ship

It was a calm peaceful day in Africa. The sun beat down harshly as usual and the roar of lions could be heard for miles. The normalness of the day was broken as a ship appeared over the horizon, magnificent and huge. It drifted purposely into port, the white flag of the East India Trading Company flapping in the breeze. Deckhands jumped off the ship and secured it to the deck.

A rather short man of great power was surveying this. He wore a white powder wig, crisp black hat, black boots, and something similar to a naval uniform. His face was set hard, and not a trace of kindness appeared in his dark eyes. Just then a deckhand ran up to him.

"Lord Cutler Beckett," he announced, "The _Wicked Wench_ has returned."  
"So I see," Beckett replied coldly without looking at the man, "Tell your Captain that Lord Beckett has summoned him."  
"Aye sir," the deckhand replied running off. Beckett marched calmly off to his fancy office. Beautiful oak bookshelves with expensive leather bound books covered the walls except for one, which had a large map of the world on it.

Walking over the oriental carpet he sat in his high back chair behind his large desk, which was covered with papers, quill pens, books and suchlike. He riffled through some of the papers, signing things and looking over income and outcome of the EITC. Five minutes went by, and Beckett started to become annoyed. He wasn't one to tolerate late persons. Fifteen minutes more went by.

Beckett sat scowling hard at his papers, not really reading them. His fingers tapped agitatedly on his desk. He was about to get his right hand man Mr. Mercer find Jack, when the door was pushed lazily open. It was Jack, finally. He was a young man around twenty with tan skin, brown eyes, a goatee, and dreadlocks that just barely touched his shoulders.

He wore a tri cornered hat, black pants, a crisp blue uniform similar to Beckett's, a sword at his side and a gun shoved in his belt. He sauntered over to one of the chairs opposite of Beckett and flopped down, propping his feet on the desk.  
"What took you so long?" Beckett questioned.  
"Ah," Jack began, "Well we went out on the _Wench_, but then this storm broke out, terrible storm I might add-"

Beckett cut him off.  
"I mean after you returned," Beckett said more specifically, "I sent a messenger twenty minutes ago to retrieve you." Jack shrugged him off.  
"Let's just get down to business so I can get me pay check, savvy?"  
"You kept me waiting, Sparrow. I won't tolerate a late employee," Beckett wouldn't change the subject that easily.

"Well I'm _terribly_ sorry if I kept you waiting the _long _time of twenty minutes, _Lord_ Beckett," Jack said sarcastically. Beckett glared at him; it was only a slight bit different from his normal face.  
"Remember, you work for me. Hold your tongue or you'll get no pay check," he threatened. Jacks lip twitched irritably, but he didn't say anything.

Beckett decided to let the tardiness issue pass; he had won a small battle anyway. Beckett spoke, knowing fully what the answer would be.  
"Did you locate the Island of Kerma?" he inquired, fiddling with a coin.  
"Nope," Jack replied coolly, examining his fingernails.  
"What?" Beckett asked incredulously, dropping the coin.

"Couldn't spot it," Jack answered, looking up at him lazily. Beckett narrowed his eyes. It wasn't like Sparrow, not to be able to locate treasure. The young man had seemed a little lax and craftier nowadays. It had taken a lot to get the truth out of him; he was lying and stealing more than usual.

He was determined to browbeat the sailor into obedience. An idea came to him. Jack had hauled various cargoes for Beckett, but there was one cargo he wouldn't haul: slaves.  
"Jack," he began.  
"Hmmm," the man muttered absently.  
"I need you to transport cargo for me," Beckett ordered.

Jack looked up at Beckett, surprised by his sudden change of mood. He'd expected some sort of scolding or disbelief. He had found Kerma, and the treasure, but it was too much to just hand over to Beckett.  
"Um sure," Jack replied, "What and where?"  
Beckett stood and looked at the giant map on the wall.

"I need you to transport a ship load of black gold," Beckett told him. Jack scowled, knowing Beckett was doing this on purpose. Jack had always refused to haul slaves, and now this must've been some punishment for not giving the whereabouts of Kerma.  
"You know how I feel about slaves mate," Jack reminded.

"And you know how I feel about disobedient employees," Beckett shot back, casually examining a sword on the bookshelf. Jack noticed this, as Beckett knew he would.  
"Listen to me Jack," Beckett growled, "You will do as I say. You will take the _Wicked Wench_ to the New World and slaves with you."  
"The _Wench_ sails as its Captain commands," Jack challenged.  
"And its Captain shall sail it as commanded," Beckett said raising his voice.

Jack kept silent, glaring up at Beckett.  
"Fine," Jack muttered quietly. Beckett smiled.  
"I'm sorry, I couldn't quite hear you," Beckett lied.  
"FINE," Jack nearly shouted.  
"Good man," Beckett sneered, "You're dismissed."

Jack got up and left the room, pondering his current situation. He walked by the building where the slaves where held, looking at the sad, dark faces. They wore nothing but rags and one child ran up to him begging for food. There was a shout from one of the guards, who ran up and hit the boy dragging him back.

"Stop it!" Jack shouted. The guard froze.  
"Let him go," Jack commanded more calmly.  
"A-aye Cap'n Sparrow," the guard stammered, releasing the kid. The child ran to Jack, holding onto his leg like his life depended on it. Jack slowly eased the kid off his leg and knelt down.

The little boy stared at him with wide innocent eyes. Jack fished in his pocket and brought out an apple, handing it to the boy with a smile. The child squealed with joy and gave Jack a bear hug. Jack grunted at the weight of the kid. The boy ran off to his mom and held up the apple, speaking rapidly in African and pointing at Jack.

Jack waved to the child and continued on his way. He felt sorry for the little boy and his family. Soon they would be transported miles and miles away to a totally unfamiliar place. Jack sighed; there was nothing he could do. On top of that Beckett had won a small battle against him. That was a thought Jack couldn't bear.

It was ten am when the _Wicked Wench_ was ready to set sail. Deckhands hurriedly untied the _Wench_ from the dock and they set sail.  
"Run out the sweeps!" Jack called to the crew. There was a scattered, "Aye Cap'n" as some of the crew went below deck. Then Jack shouted for his first mate.  
"Mr. Todd!"

The young red head ran up to him.  
"Yes sir," he responded. Jack had always liked Todd, he was always a rather easy going guy, and he was Jack's best friend.  
"We have a need to go to Kerma," Jack told him, "I need you to take the helm, I need to check on things below deck."  
"What's in yer head Cap'n?" he asked, his blue eyes wide with curiosity.

"I'm going to free the slaves," Jack murmured.  
"I'll never understand you Cap'n, but I'll obey you," Todd laughed. Jack smiled; his plan might work after all.

_Two days later_

"Land ho!" a shout rang clearly from the crow's nest. Jack peered through his spy glass to see there was indeed land. It was Kerma.  
"On deck all hands!" Jack hollered. The crew assembled below on the main deck. "Unshackle the slaves!"

The crew was surprised.  
"What do you mean unshackle the slaves?" one crew member James asked.  
"Go below deck, use the keys, put them in the shackles, and let the bloody slaves free," Jack replied slowly, raising his voice at the last step. He had never liked James. He was always whining, complaining, tattle tailing, asking stupid questions, and doing anything he possibly could to stay on the best terms with Beckett.  
"But Lord Beckett said to take them to the New World," James protested.

"'Lord' Beckett made me your Captain, and you'll do as I say, now shut it," Jack growled. Thank the Lord that got James to shut up.  
"Lower the slaves in the longboats and take them to the Isle," Jack commanded. The crew obeyed, but James kept complaining Beckett would catch them. The operation took a while, but after two hours it was finally over. With that, the _Wench_ was turned around and they headed back for Africa.

Beckett sat in his office, going through another stack of paperwork. Suddenly a man burst in. Glancing, up, Beckett saw it was that annoying clingy sailor.  
"Lord Beckett," the man began, "I've come with important news."  
"State your name, rank, and ship you serve on," Beckett said without looking up from his paper work.  
"James," the sailor replied," Cargo master aboard the _Wicked Wench_."

"Ah, so she's returned," Beckett muttered absently.  
"Yes sir," James confirmed hurriedly, "I have important news though."  
"Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait," Beckett told him uninterested.  
"It's concerning the black gold," James protested.  
"Yes, I know they arrived in the New World safely," Beckett predicted, getting rather annoyed, "You're dismissed."

"But they didn't! Sparrow freed them at Kerma!" James cried.  
"I said your dismiss- wait WHAT?" Beckett's attention zeroed in on James. The young man beamed.  
"Jack Sparrow freed the slaves and took them to live on Kerma," James repeated. Beckett's eyebrows drew together in a deep scow and he clenched his teeth so hard it hurt.

"Get him," Beckett managed to growl, "I don't care if you have to drag him. Bring him here now."  
"Yes Lord Beckett," James said excitedly, dashing out of the room. Within five minutes, he returned, pushing Jack in front of him.  
"REALLY, is it too much to ask for a LITTLE sleep around this bloody place," Sparrow snapped at James. He was bleary eyed and wore loose black pants and a poufy white shirt.

"After what you've done," Beckett rumbled, "Yes." Jack blinked at him lazily.  
"You freed those slaves," Beckett accused.  
"Well that's a wild accusation," Jack remarked, sounding the slightest bit drunk. Beckett narrowed his eyes.

"So you didn't free the slaves?" Beckett inquired.  
"Oh, no I freed the slaves," Jack replied, "I just said your accusation was wild." Beckett glared at him, annoyed.  
"Your dear friend James here told me you took the slaves to Kerma," Beckett informed, bringing Jack up to date. He saw Jack's eyes flicker over to James  
"The Island you told me you couldn't, locate," Beckett reminded. He heard Jack take a hesitant breath.

"You lied about Kerma," Beckett summed up, "And you freed those slaves that could've made hundreds of pounds off of."  
"Pretty much," Jack agreed, seeming unbothered. Beckett closed his eyes to calm himself. It wasn't working.

He stood rigid, teeth and fists clenched, anger welling up inside him. Opening his eyes again, he lashed out on the unsuspecting Jack, punching him squarely in the jaw. Jack grunted and stumbled back, and Beckett brought his foot down hard on Jack's knee, causing Jack to fall on his back. Jack yelped in pain. Beckett nodded to James, who readily started punching Jack.

Sparrow feebly defended himself, and the two men were lost in a whirlwind of punches, rolling on the ground. Beckett noticed, the tired and already weakened Jack become weaker. Beckett signaled to Mr. Mercer, who threw James off of Sparrow and manacled Sparrow by the hands and feet. Beckett smiled smugly down at Jack. There was blood trickling from his mouth and bruises were appearing as well.

He lay limp on the oriental carpet. Beckett got down on one knee beside him and said,  
"You see Jack, you can't beat me. You're about as much use as a pirate now. This is no longer your world." Jack's eyes flashed angrily, but he said nothing.  
"Take him away," Beckett ordered. Mr. Mercer grunted and tied a rope around the manacles dragging Jack behind him.

The manacles were released and Jack was tossed into an empty cell like a sack of grain. He grunted in pain and lay there for a moment, unable to move. The scattered strands of hay on the stone floor did absolutely nothing to cushion his fall. His whole body, especially his jaw and knee, throbbed terribly. Beckett had a punch so strong it nearly knocked him out.

Jack groaned and sat up. He had scrapes, scratches and bruises everywhere. Man he hoped the slaves were happy. Jack examined the cell around him. He pushed and pulled at bars and bricks, searching for some sort of weakness. There were none.

He sighed and slid to the ground. He was really in the mood for some rum. Why couldn't he have stopped by a tavern before this whole bloody mess? He rolled up his pant leg to look at his knee. It had swelled black and blue. He poked it and let out a hiss of pain.  
"Note to self," he muttered, "Don't poke bruises."

His legs were covered in dirt and long scratches. His stomach growled. Things couldn't get much worse.

Beckett marched proudly to the jail house. It had three months since he had thrown Jack in prison, now he had the perfect punishment ready. He smiled smugly as he approached Sparrow's cell. He was taken aback. He knew all prisoners grew weak, but it still took him a moment to adjust.

Sparrow was covered in dirt and grime. His hands and feet were black and scratched, some scratches were bleeding. His shirt and pants were torn, but his shirt was torn so much that Jack's chest and stomach showed, and Beckett could see Jack's ribs. Jack had found a way to shave though, most likely from a sharp rock in the corner.

His dreadlocks had grown a little, and he appeared so weak, he didn't look like he could lift a book. Jack sat there meditating, his chest rising and falling slowly. Two guards unlocked the cell and yanked Jack up by the arms. Opening his eyes Jack glared at Beckett, the only thing that seemed unchanged. Beckett smiled and walked out of the cell, leading the guards.

They boarded a ship and went so the land was nearly a dot in the distance. A hundred feet away, sat the _Wicked Wench _drifting proudly in the water, not knowing its fate. Beckett saw Jack staring at it with longing. Beckett nodded to the guards, two more appeared. They forced Jack down on the ground and stood behind him.

One guard stepped on Jack's back to hold him down and the other stretched his right arm over an anvil. Beckett was going to enjoy this. There was a small controlled fire set up nearby, which had a long branding iron in it. The branding iron had the symbol of a P on it. Beckett picked it up and smiled at it coldly. Jack's eyes flickered with anxiety.

"You remember how I told you that you were about as useful as a pirate?" Beckett recalled.  
"How could I forget?" Jack growled. Beckett didn't answer the question.  
"Now you'll remember forever," Beckett sneered. He plunged the branding iron onto Jack's arm, grinning madly.

Jack's pupils shrank as his eyes widened. He let out a caterwaul that sounded like something from hell. Jack struggled like mad trying to escape, but the guards held him down. Beckett felt satisfaction welling up in his chest as he pressed the branding iron harder, listening to the man scream. He lifted the branding iron and set it down on the fire.

Jack's eyes were squeezed shut and he was breathing heavily. Beads of sweat appeared on his face.  
"Shall we just call it square then?" Jack groaned.  
"Not quite," Beckett replied, "You see your ship there?" He indicated the _Wicked Wench_. Jack nodded.  
"Wish it good bye," Beckett told him.  
"WHAT?" Jack exclaimed, still in pain.

"I'm going to destroy it," Beckett informed. "It's just good business." Jack gazed up at him helplessly.  
"You can't," he whispered.

"Watch me," Beckett growled. He nodded to some sailors who shot cannons at the _Wench_. Jack yelped struggling at his captors. The first few shots hit, followed by more and more and more. Just then, it began to sink. Suddenly, Beckett saw something in Jack's eyes he had never seen before. It was an untamable anger.

Jack let out a ferocious roar and threw the guards off of him, kicking and punching, an unnatural strength seemed to fill him.  
"I'M COMING DARLING!" he roared. He ran off the ship and dove cleanly into the water, streaking towards his sinking ship. Beckett looked after him; this wasn't what he'd intended at all. With that, the _Wicked Wench _burst into an inferno and disappeared beneath the surface, taking Jack with it.

The water swirled around him as Jack pressed deeper through the water. The air remaining in his lungs left him quickly. Jack was dying. Then, a thought occurred to him. It probably wouldn't work, but it was worth a shot.  
"Davy Jones, Lord of the Seas, I summon you!" he screamed underwater, barely making a sound. Bubbles exploded from his mouth as he sank deeper with his charred ship. So this was the end. He'd risked his life all for a ship.

Suddenly he saw another ship shoot up towards him, from underwater. It broke the surface, bringing Jack with it. Air filled Jack's lungs once more; he coughed up water gasping for breath. He blinked the water out of his eyes and looked up to see a man. Wait, no it wasn't a man, it was an octopus. It was an octopus man. Jack screamed, backing up away from him.

"You summoned me," it rumbled in a Welsh accent. Jack looked closer; it was a man, with a tentacle beard. It had a stump of a crab leg, a crab claw, and a tentacle hand, yet it was wearing formal attire, as a man would.  
"Davy Jones," Jack inquired.  
"Aye," Jones replied. Jack sat gaping at him like an idiot.

"You summoned me," Jones repeated, "Hurry up, this better be good."  
"Um, well yes," Jack said regaining his thoughts. "So, you see, I was dying trying to save my ship the _Wicked Wench_, then I called on you to see if you could bring my ship back."  
"We have to make a bargain," Davy Jones told him, the tentacle beard wriggling, "I can't just give people new ships here and there now can I?"

Jack thought for a moment.  
"Ok, if you can bring my ship back and make her the fastest most dangerous Pirate vessel plus letting me live for twenty more years then I will sail under your command for 100 years on the _Flying Dutchman_," Jack decided.  
"You'll live for five years," Davy Jones haggled.  
"Fifteen," Jack argued.  
"Ten," Jones persisted.

"Thirteen," Jack decided, "Do we have an accord?" Davy Jones looked thoughtful. After a moment he said,  
"Agreed." Jack extended a hand, which Jones shook with his tentacle hand. Jack grimaced in disgust. There was a crackle of lightning and suddenly, they were in the harbor of Tortuga. Then his ship the rose above the surface, it was now a black ship with black sails. At the bow was a carved angel holding a dove.

"I christen this ship, the _Black Pearl_," Jack pronounced gazing at the stream lined ship.  
"Thirteen years," Jones growled, disappearing in a flash of lightning, leaving Jack on his new ship.  
"I guess it's time I found me self a crew," Jack said to himself. "Pirate Captain Jack Sparrow, I like the sound of that."

He hopped off his ship and onto the dock. Then, a man around thirty came up to him. He walked with a noticeable limp and a monkey sat on his shoulder.  
"Yer not from around these parts are ye?" the man asked.  
"Nope," Jack replied.  
"And what brings ye here to Tortuga?"The man inquired.  
"I'm looking for a crew for my ship," Jack answered.  
"Found anyone yet?" the man inquired.  
"Nope," Jack responded.

"Well, I think you've found yerself one now," the man rumbled, "The name's Hector Barbossa, and yours?"  
"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," Jack said, extending a hand. Barbossa shook it.  
"Welcome aboard the _Black Pearl_, Barbossa."


End file.
